Christmas holidays 2009 has been a bit of a blur, with bad colds hitting every member of the household. Christmas Day was decidedly not fun, but that's not to say all was lost. On the eve of the return to our regularly scheduled programs of daycare and work, I give you a peek at our December.
There was gingerbread house decorating, cookie decorating, and 24 days of advent calendering. (I made that word up).
Margo lived in pjs as much as she possibly could, and there was a lot of lounging on the couch. Too much. Having two parents not at 100% meant entirely too much tv this vacation. But she's not complaining.
Christmas Eve I took the day off work, and with runny noses, we brought the girls into Michel's work where a party for the kids had been organized, and a visit from the big guy himself, scheduled.
Margo waited SOOOO patiently while
50 children or so got called up to see Santa and receive a gift. By the time there were four or five children left, the poor girl had clearly given up,and turned her back on Santa to watch, forlornly, as other kids played with their new toys. Heart.break.
Christmas Eve we all went to bed early after getting the kids to open a gift from GrandMaman, matching pjs (obligé!), and laying out treats for Santa and his reindeer.
Margo practiced being nice for Santa, and it was off to bed.
Christmas Day was, umm, yelly. Margo didn't want to wake up, and finally at 8:30, after I held her sister off from opening all the presents, Margo arose...
...with such bad pinkeye her little right eye was stuck shut with green goo, and it was pathetic, let me tell you. Much screaming as I cleaned up her eye, Michel put in eye drops, and Maude terrorized the living room. Sadly, the tone had been set.
Santa gifts were promptly opened, Margo's bed tent from Mama and Papa was set up, and some peace was restored.
Since Christmas Day, we've all recovered, held a fantastic open house on New Years day, and we've entertained the kids with trips to Museums, Cosmic Adventures, walks, playing in the park, and we've even put our eldest into domestic training.
But we give her a break now and again. (Oh, it's sad what passes for fun at our house sometimes!
Donna made an advent calendar. Every evening, Donna puts a gift or the promise of an activity in the next day's pocket, and every morning, Margo gets a gift or event to do that day. In future years, this will have to be shared with Maude, but for 2009, Margo will have her advent calendar.
Today's gift was the promise to write a letter to Santa. Santa Claus. Margo needed a little help with the format, stuff like "You normally start a letter with 'Dear XXX'," or "it's usually nice to let the person know that you are happy to be writing the letter to him/her before asking for gifts," and "Should you ask Santa Claus for something for Maude?"
The following is the result:
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Dear Santa Claus, I love Santa Claus.
I want a violin. I love you, Santa Claus.
Maude can have a little, little teeny tiny boat. To go in a glass of water. I got a surprise... decorationed.
Dear Santa claus, I have a Santa Claus cup.
Dear Santa Claus, Maude is a girl.
Dear Santa Claus, I want a new Santa Claus bottle (she then turned to Donna and said "so write that.")
Please buy me a Rudolph jammies with a Santa Claus on it with my Santa Claus bottle, OK?
Maude finally took her first few unassisted steps. She was pushing one of these, but she was walking around, noticed that I was staring at her with a big smile on my face, and then quickly sunk to her knees, as though she'd been caught out.
We may have missed the first 244, but I offer you this one for the reading:
Last week, heading downstairs for breakfast, Margo says to me:
"Mama, I think that you and Papa should make some more love and make some more kids." (We've roughly sketched out how babies come about at what we feel is an appropriate level for a three year old)
"You think? Why? Two kids aren't enough?"
"No Mama. Big families are cozy."
Come on, kid, enough with the cute. You're killing me.
Today, your 11th month birthday, we spent our last day together, just the two of us. As of Monday, the whole family will be home together for two weeks, and then you'll be starting at Carmen's.
Daycare. You. My little baby.
I've been saving up things in my head for this post, that I want you to know about you as a baby.
- When you're really into nursing, you slap my arm with the flat of your hand. Repeatedly. Margo called you Thumper the other day and she's not far off.
- You're attached to me. Like a little monkey some days. I worry more about you starting daycare then I did about your sister.
- You wrinkle your nose when you laugh. I love this.
- So many people tell me you look like me, but you have Papa's chin. Many people also see your Grandma Monica in you. She would have loved you so much.
- I am getting so much exercise and fresh air due to your basic inability to sleep without walking in the stroller. I don't think the first part is a bad thing, but I wonder how you'll do when Mama isn't around to stroll the neighbourhood.
- You are so easy to laugh. I hope this never changes.
- At 11 months, you're a solid cruiser, and you even stood by yourself for a split second the other day. You continue to love the park, and have discovered the slide. You're fearless and love to climb.
- You're still not sleeping through the night but it's a manageable schedule now and we all feel much more well rested.
- You incite in me a joy that is particular to you. No other human being on this Earth can look at me the way you do. I love you boundlessly and endlessy. How can I not? Damn you're cute.
Maude started crawling in mid-May. As Donna tells it, she was in one room, and saw a shaky hand appear, then *wobble wobble* her head *wobble wobble* another hand, until Maude was in full view, large and in charge.
This first video is from May 20.
And in another example of practice makes perfect, here is Maude 3 weeks later.
With the crawling comes the other stuff, like table and couch surfing, crawling up to Mama's leg and pulling herself up, using Donna's leg as a crutch, and standing bouncing.
It's a very unique crawl. It's sort of like watching someone run a hurdle-jumping course, but in slow motion, and without leaving the ground. Front leg goes out in front, back leg tucks in in back, front legs pulls Maude forward, with the help of her hands.
The other big thing is that Maude woke up at 3 a.m. on the morning on July 9th and started crying. I went to get her, and as I entered the room, her arms shot up and her crying ground to a halt, then she replaced it with a quivering "mama mama." Bringing her back to Donna to nurse, she sleepily looked me in the eyes, bobbed her head around and said "papa."
First words are hard, because you're never sure if it was a fluke or an actual word. It makes sense that she would have said "mama" at that moment, and "papa" when I was holding her, but I haven't heard it since. Donna has said that she's heard "mama" on a few earlier occasions. Donna plays a game with the girls where she excitedly points at someone and says their name, so Maude has definitely heard all our names before.
If these are her first words, it seems that I've lost a bet. I bet Donna that Maude would repeat the word that she heard most often from Margo, so any one of "NOOOOOOOoooooOOOOOOOO PAPA, MAUDI IS TOUCHING MY (insert name of toy). GET HER OUT.GET HER OUT!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
All things considered, I think I'm more than happy with "mama" instead.
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and laying out treats for Santa and his reindeer.
